


Bye Bye, Baby Blue

by CinderReadsandWrites



Category: LazyTown
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Ghosts, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Urban Explorers, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/F, F/M, Horror, M/M, Modern Horror, No Sportarobbie yet, On Hiatus, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pediophobia, Psychological Horror, Robbie's bunker is nasty and dilapidated, Seriously Sportacus do you want tetanus, Sportaurbex, The kids are aged up but some of the older character's ages didn't change too much, Urban Exploration, set in 2017, urbex, Íþróttaálfurinn is Sportacus' dad
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-17
Updated: 2017-04-16
Packaged: 2018-09-25 01:29:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9796349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CinderReadsandWrites/pseuds/CinderReadsandWrites
Summary: "I guess when you turn off the main road, you have to be prepared to see some funny houses." -Stephen KingSportacus loves adventure. He has since he was young. When the kids at school told him of scary monsters in the forest, Sportacus went looking for them. When he saw something out of his window on a car trip he would insist that they stop and look. Yes, adventure was definitely his passion, and his passion was about to shove him into the deep end- literally and figuratively.





	1. Travel is Never a Matter of Money, but a Matter of Courage

**Author's Note:**

> Edit (again): I went back and changed a bunch of stuff because each time I write Sportacus I have to change my plot and also because I'm anxious and worry about how my works seem. So yeah. Same story, slightly different plot. More words, too. I also went ahead and removed some tags that may not end of being relevant later on, or just don't matter in general. Fun.

Sportacus loves adventure. He has since he was young. When the kids at school told him of scary monsters in the forest, Sportacus went looking for them. When he saw something out of his window on a car trip he would insist that they stop and look. Yes, adventure was definitely his passion. 

When he was sixteen he got a job so he could buy photography equipment. It took a bit, conscidering it was just a minimum wage job at the local grocery store, but he didn't mind. When he got his first laptop he scoured the internet for abandoned places within driving distance. He got a college degree in social studies, focusing on multi-cultural subjects, with a minor in literature and another in archaeology. He dabbled in world history, just to round himself out, to be able to have at least an idea of the origin of anything he came across. Then, he had begun to travel the country, making money by selling photography and keeping a Youtube channel, all while visiting as many historical hotspots as he could find.

It could get rough at times, but Sportacus had always thought it was fun. He tried to be careful and take his time, but usually just ended up running around, taking pictures, and climbing all over stuff. He had the occasional scrape here and there, but in the end it made him stronger, more durable.

It had been several years since he graduated from college, and barring trips to visit his family, he was always traveling. 

Today was one of those trips, but he was actually traveling for this one. This one wasn't a trip back home to visit Íþróttaálfurinn. He was going to go stay with a cousin for a few months.

He’d managed to wrangle a last-minute economy ticket and paid an exorbitant amount for the freighter to RV and motorcycle into the country. It was pricey, but he was looking forward to his stay.

Part of the reason he was so exited was because he was getting a chance to visit a different country. He spent most of his time in or around Iceland, so this was going to be a fresh start. A new adventure, with new places to go. New photos to take, new videos to shoot.

 

“Destination reached.”

 

He glanced at his GPS before looking up, and quickly slowed down. The town looming before him was fairly large and... utterly average. The road led straight into town and there was a pretty clear lane most of the way through. The buildings didn’t look overly dilapidated (except for how most seemed to lean slightly, most likely due to bad foundations) and the cars on the street sat peacefully in their parking spots. There was not much destruction to be seen. The sun was shining happily, with fluffy white clouds passing by, sitting low in the sky. This was definitely LazyTown.

Sportacus hummed, coming to a stop on the side of the road just before the town limits. He looked around. There were a few things he could see just around the town limits- to his right was what looked like an old billboard and some heavy machinery, and behind that a forest. To his left was a field.

“We're here.” Sportacus said to his dashcam, grinning and leaning back in his seat. He liked to take videos of the roadtrips and speed them up for parts of his vlogs. “This feels promising.”

He hummed as he stepped out of his motorhome, pausing before unloading his motorcycle from it's trailer. This was going to be interesting.


	2. And so... The Adventure Begins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "If you're brave enough to say goodbye, life will reward you with a new hello." -Paulo Coelho
> 
> Sportacus begins to settles in, we meet Stephanie, and we get a teeny tiny bit of foreshadowing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so a bit of explaining about this AU since it might be a little unclear.  
> Sportacus is the same age as in canon but the kids are all aged up. They're all in or around their teens with Ziggy being the youngest and Jives (Jives and Penny are in here, just not mentioned much!) being the oldest.  
> Bessie, Milford, and any of the other adults are the same age as in canon except for Robbie- which will be explained in later chapters if it isn't already obvious why.  
> Sportacus' cruiser/motorcycle is a big blue street glide and his RV is a Fleetwood American Eagle. I have no idea how he can afford that stuff, especially given the fact that he makes money from photography, but he does. A miracle man indeed.  
> There are a couple references in this chapter, one of them being the drone that Pixel has. It's the 'aircraft' that was used in Little Sportacus and the other being the Leaning Castle of LazyTown from Haunted Castle.

He glances towards the houses that rush by in his peripheral. Yellow brick walls flicker in the spots of sunlight that fall through the tree canopies. Gardens flourish in yards. Despite the general disrepair, most of the houses in the neighbor look quite cozy. Some of them more bizarre than others- he thinks he saw what might've been a castle- or a tower- sitting atop a hill a little while back.

His too-tight helmet is jammed uncomfortably onto his head, cheek padding jabbing into Sportacus' cheek as he leans forward on his motorcycle. His hair is pulled back, raked away from his forehead. 

The houses seem to be more crowded the further into the town he goes. It's a little surprising- the town is all the way out in open land, so why hadn't they just expanded the border?

The motorcycle hums as he weaves down road after road. He has an idea of where the house is, but he's never been to LazyTown before. The roads are unfamiliar to him.

Squinting, Sportacus sits up straight as he tries to glance up through the windshield of his cruiser at the house he's nearing. It’s a small yellow house with white accents that line the windows, alongside several windowsill planters.

The motorcycle halts and he pulls up on the curb. Sportacus continues staring at the house for a minute before setting up the kick stand and unbuckling his helmet.

Sportacus looks over the luxurious sprawl of the well-maintained lawn. It’s not an unpleasant house by any measure, but it’s just that it feels so small and irregular in the midst of all the other houses.

Suddenly the door burst open and a pink blur runs into his side.

“Sportacus!"

"Oh- Stephanie?"

The girl looks up at him with a bright smile and nods, beaming. To an outsider they must look like they've known each other forever, although they'd first talked over the phone a few weeks prior.

Stephanie asks if he needs help bringing his stuff inside when he makes a move to grab his bag from the side of his cruiser.

Slinging one the duffle bags over his shoulder, Sportacus politely declines. He had only brought some of his clothes, a few electronics, and some hygienic products. The bag isn't very heavy at all. It's enough for his first night there, but he'll probably end up unloading half of his motorhome and settling into his temporary home within the next few days.

The girl notices the case of his primary camera- a Nikon- around his neck and asks if he's a photographer. Sportacus attempts to explain urban exploring in a way that doesn't sound like trespassing. (It isn't, most of the time. He only enters areas that he either has permission to or are completely abandoned.) Stephanie nods before visibly brightening.

"There are a couple abandoned places in town- or, well, just unoccupied. People don't tend to stay around LazyTown for long."

"Oh?"

"Yeah." She says, not elaborating.

“Come to think of it,” Stephanie considers, “There's this one place that I know is actually abandoned. It's this bunker near the edge of town," That caught Sportacus' interest. Bunkers, especially genuine ones, were rare. "My friend Pixel showed me pictures from the inside when one of our other friends, Trixie, dared him to go in last year. I don't think he actually went inside, though- he probably flew one of his drones in." She looks up at Sportacus, who is taking his phone from one of the saddle bags on his cruiser. “I wouldn’t be wrong to guess that you want to see them, would I?”

Sportacus chuckles. "I would like that."

"I'll text Pixel about it after we get you moved in."

With his duffelbag slung over his shoulder and phone stuffed into his pocket, Sportacus follows Stephanie into the house.

Though the condition of the house is maintained, meticulously cleaned and repaired, there is no way of hiding the age. The floor creaks and the doors persist to swing open on their own if not closed completely. It is blatant that the house is several centuries old at the very least.

Sportacus drops his bag by the kitchen counter and looks through the wide concave window. Among the flower beds that have become vegetable gardens there are some scattered garden tools, either forgotten or just left outside for lack of a better place to put them.

“Come on,” Stephanie calls, "I'm gonna show you around the house before I go to school.”

She stops occasionally, opening a few windows as she leads Sportacus around the house and to where the guest room hides behind a tall white door.

When Sportacus steps through the door Stephanie is already rummaging through the stacked boxes and chest that have been shoved into the farthest corner of the room.

The room is emptier than the rest of the house. While the other rooms had a well-loved feeling, this room's atmosphere was solemn. Light filters in through the window, lighting up the dust that's been stirred up. The sight could be considered pretty if you were particularly fond of sneezing constantly.

Roughly closing a ravaged chest, Stephanie moves in front of the next one. The latch creaks as she pries it up and pushes open the lid.

“You just used this room for storage?” Sportacus asks as he leans over Stephanie to take a better look at the contents of the chest. She puts it aside and pulls forward a cardboard box.

“Yeah, we don't usually have guests so it's pretty bare. Figured that we could get away with stuffing some of Uncle Milford's old stuff in here. I have no idea why we even still have most of this- it’s all just flimsy keep-sakes,” Stephanie mutters as she begins to put the folded clothes she had moved from the box back in and pulls open a different chest. “Oh, I think this is it.” She pulls the fabric out from where it has been jammed into the chest.

It's a blanket.

“Here,” offers Stephanie.

Sportacus takes the blanket and hums in consideration before laying it out onto the edge of the bed.

Stephanie reaches into the chest again and pulls out several sheets as well as some nice looking feather pillows.

“They're a little dusty but they should do for a couple of days, seeing as you didn't bring your own blankets." Stephanie says. She wouldn't be wrong- he had forgot to jam his blanket and pillows into a bag before he left his RV.

Suddenly, Stephanie's phone begins to buzz. She pulls it out, almost dropping it onto the floor, and flicks on the screen.

“Aw crap," she mutters. “The clocks in the main room must be late. I'm supposed to be at school within an hour.” Stephanie gets off her knees and dusts off her shirt. “I really have to go.”

“Alright." Sportacus nods.

“I will come back on Thursday to drop you off at the garage,” Stephanie tells him as she quickly makes for the front door. “If anything happens, try and find signal to call me, or just use the house phone.”

“Okay!” Sportacus agrees. He drops the armful of pillows onto the bed and follows Stephanie out and into the hallway.

“If worst comes to worst,” Stephanie calls over her shoulder as she pauses at the front door, “Like your food runs out-”

“I’ll start foraging!” Sportacus cuts in as he comes to a halt behind Stephanie.

The young woman turns and frowns at Sportacus with an incredulous- yet amused- look. “I was going to say there is some money in the kitchen, but whatever works for you, I guess.”

Sportacus shrugs. “Yeah, you’ll come back and find me making spears with rocks. Maybe I’ll even befriend some of the local wildlife.”

Stephanie giggles. “Maybe.” She stands up on her tiptoes and wraps her arms around Sportacus' shoulders.

“Oh, by the way," Stephanie perks up as she pushes back from Sportacus. “Uncle Milford isn't in town. I think he said something about a meeting before he left,” She pats Sportacus on the shoulders. "He should be back in a few weeks, though.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm a bit busy with school and work right now, so sadly my updates are gonna be spaced a little awkwardly. I have no idea when I will or won't update and the length of each chapter is gonna vary. Sorry about that you guys.


	3. I Want a Relationship Where They Know of Us, but Nothing About Us.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Photography takes an instant out of time, altering life by holding it still." -Dorothea Lange
> 
> A bored Sportacus is a nosy Sportacus, and we get some more foreshadowing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, as for ages...
> 
> Sportacus: 23  
> Stephanie: 15  
> Milford: 58  
> Bessie: 52  
> Ziggy: 13  
> Stingy: 14  
> Pixel: 17  
> Trixie: 16  
> Penny:15  
> Jives: 18
> 
> I'm not giving you anyone (you know who) else's age right now because that would spoil the fun, yeah? On a side note, did you guys know that Stingy was apparently going to be the youngest originally? He was 6 and Ziggy was 7. Crazy, man.

It starts raining not too long after Stephanie leaves.

The blonde had been meaning to go for a walk around town, or perhaps to go back to his motorhome and grab some other supplies, but with the rain being so heavy he decides against it. He could get a cold, or worse. Instead, Sportacus moves to set up his laptop in the guest bedroom. 

After about an hour or scrambling around with bundles of wires and trying to figure out how to connect it to the internet, he gives up on that too and resolves to ask Stephanie for help when she gets back.

Plans ruined, Sportacus has nothing to do but lie on the livingroom floor doing one handed pushups and listen to the rain hit the windows. Tink. Tink tink. Tink. It's a relaxing sound, but at the moment it just frustrates Sportacus. There isn't any real rhythm or pattern to it and it throws off his push ups minutely. He never could focus on anything with background noise.

Sportacus should be enjoying this. No constant driving, stopping for gas and taking money from ATMs, constantly worrying that he's bring the right thing for his next trip.

He's not enjoying it.

He's not enjoying it at all.

He's just not used to staying in places for very long. He hasn't in awhile. Not since he left Iceland the first time, really.

The blonde ceases his push ups and sits up, looking around the room. He looks at the front door and then the windows, covered in tiny droplets of water, wishing it was dry out so he could get something done. With a sight, Sportacus leans back and looks up at the popcorn ceiling.

“Rain...” Sportacus hums.

 

Just hours before Sportacus was in his now-bedroom, blowing dust off of desks, opening the window, and unpacking as best he could. Afterward, he set about poking through the house. 

Deciding that there can’t be any harm in it, Sportacus peeked into Milford’s room. Nothing interesting. After having a quick glance Sportacus left and inspected the other rooms.

Overall, the house is the embodiment cozy living. The general color palette, yellow and white, made the house look welcoming. It stayed comfortably warm thanks to it's size, too. Not too big, not too small. Big enough that you don't notice when dust begins to collect but smaller than most of the other houses in the neighborhood. Big enough that you have extra rooms. Small enough that you use them for storage.

That’s where Sportacus found himself earlier, sitting in the sparse light the overhead light provided as he searched with disinterested eyes through the dusty boxes, making sure anything important that could be crammed into the boxes wasn't lost in his reorganized mess. If the temperature decided to drop during the night he didn't want to spend an hour searching through boxes to find a few extra sheets at minimum. He leafed through papers, stack after stack of information that made next to no sense to him: lists of names and checklists, confidential letters, and plenty of records for... Something. Probably financial stuff.

One box held photoalbums. Sportacus pulled a few of the thicker ones out and flipped through them, pausing to figure out which parts of town were caught in what images. It was different back then, with buildings reaching higher and streets stretching on for what seemed like eternity compared to the town now. Quite a few of the pictures were in black and white but they still seemed vibrant and full of life.

There were photographs of cheerful young people posing next to friends or in the water of the near by beach in bland swimsuits. Some of the images were more intricate, showing the residents or guests during periods of activity, sometimes lounging on the furniture that Sportacus recognized from Milford's house or fussing around a dinner party table with quite a buffet spread out, their faces forever frozen in laughter.

At the end of the stacked photographs, there was a coffee stained card and a polaroid.

Beaming with curiosity, he slipped the card out and inspected it. The front was a depiction of what might've been a fanciful garden (It was very, very faded. He couldn't tell.) and the back was covered in cursive handwriting. His English was bad enough as it was, paired with fact that it was written in cursive made it just about unreadable to him. He probably shouldn't be snooping anyway. Sportacus slipped the card back into the book and looked at the polaroid.

Sitting in a velvet armchair was a young man and a women, whom Sportacus assumed was his wife, surrounded by people in various degrees of dress. There was a small girl, probably no older than 4, sitting on the floor to the left of the chair. It looks like they at least tried to get her to pose for the picture, but she seemed distracted by something out of the shot. The woman was seated in his lap, legs crossed, the skirt of her dress rucked up far enough that he could see one of her garters. The man's arms were clasped around her waist, chin resting on her shoulder. Judging by their attire it must've been from a wedding. For someone at such an event, the man seemed exceptionally grim. Cold eyes stared at the photographer. A big black '83 scribbled on one corner of the picture.

Sportacus shudders and slips the photo back into the album before place it and the rest of the albums back into their box and sliding back into the corner of the room. He didn't exactly want to look in the others anymore.

 

Sportacus tries not to think about the photographs as he lies on the floor. There is a sickening gut feeling that he had shoved his nose where he shouldn’t have; those things are private, not his to inspect like artifacts in a museum. But then again… There is no one to tell him not to touch them.

Burying himself in thoughts of anything but that picture, Sportacus begins to doze. Open mouthed, his face is pressed against his arm, drooling. Around him, the house groans and creeks as it settles under the cool summer shower that continues to flood the drain pipes.

 

Blinking sleet from his eyes, Sportacus stands and grabs his phone from the coffee table before he sinks to the floor against the couch in relief when he realizes that the rain has stopped. Water is dripping down onto the patio. Had he fell asleep?

He squints down at his phone. 12:38 PM. He hadn't been asleep for too long.

Sportacus sighs for what seemed like the millionth time that day. He just had to wait for school to end for the day. Shouldn't be too much longer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... For some reason my end notes are being a bit wonky, or they've always been like this and I never noticed, but I just checked and they aren't going at the ends of chapters, but at the end of the story in general. My beginning notes are fine though?  
> On a side note I called Sportacus a blonde in chapter three (which this note is meant for) but honestly I'm kind of unsure about that because like... Black eyebrows and mustache. Black roots. Maggie has blonde hair though, and it's obvious in pics where Sporty doesn't have a hat on, so I went with it.  
> Another thing is that Sportacus knows he hadn't slept for too long towards the end of this chapter despite having not checked a clock before he fell asleep. He actually had been, periodically, but I didn't feel like that would fit to include at any part of the chapter.
> 
> Edit: Fixed the notes and edited the time. I had it written as AM instead of PM. Whoops!


	4. People Don't Know the Half of It, but They Don't Need to Know Either.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Privacy on the internet? That's an oxymoron." -Catherine Butler  
> Stephanie is back from school. Sportacus gets his internet connection back up and running.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I've never actually owned a laptop, but from what I know you can hook them up in the same places as you would hook up a phone, if your phone is the same as your internet provider.  
> Sorry for this chapter being so short. I'm running thin on inspiration for filling in the spaces between plot related chapters.

Sportacus is sitting on the front steps of the house, reading a book he had taken from Milford's room, when a maroon truck rolls to a stop in the yard. The passenger side door creaks open, and out steps Stephanie, who says something to the driver, a brunette girl who can't possibly be that much older than Stephanie, before adjusting her purse and closing the door.

They both head inside, Sportacus setting the book, Watership Down, onto the kitchen counter. He gets a can of Arizona Iced Tea from the fridge and turns back to her.

Sportacus doesn't ask about how school went and Stephanie doesn't ask what he did at home, instead telling him about how her friends Pixel and Stingy are working on a new song. He doesn't have any idea what glitchhop is, but he doesn't tell her that.

The blonde asks her for help with his laptop, and after explaining that he couldn't figure out how to get it connected to the internet, she heads with him into his room and pulls a bundle of wires from one of the drawers in the mahogany desk.

“Does Milford scrapbook?”

Stephanie looks up at Sportacus from under her bangs. “Yeah! He used to do that a lot, but I don't think he has recently,” Stephanie explains, looking back down at the bundle of wires that she was untangling. “Why?”

“I found some photoalbums in my room while looking for some stuff. I was interested.”

Stephanie chuckles. "Interested?"

“Yeah.” Sportacus shrugs. “Photographs are basically what my entire income is based around.”

“I thought you made YouTube videos?"

“I also have an Instagram."

Stephanie nods. “I hope you haven’t been doing too much snooping.”

Sportacus hums and takes a sip of his tea.

“Milford told me not to look through too many of those old things. He said that there are some things in there that shouldn't be looked at. You know, like, private stuff.”

Sportacus nods. He tries not to think about the coffee stained polaroid. 

“Sure,” he says.

They converse about subjects that Sportacus has little to no knowledge of, like her friends' band. He feels as though his limbs have been paralyzed while his mind hurtles through thoughts that deafen Stephanie’s words.

There is tapping on Sportacus’ knee and he thinks, for a moment, that it’s Stephanie, but when he looks down he sees that his hand is shaking, fingers drumming against his leg.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I dunno, guys. I feel like Milford reads stuff like Watership Down. Personally I've never read it, because I'm uninterested, but from what I know about I feel like he'd enjoy that kind of thing.  
> On a separate note, I'm planning a couple of other Sportarobbie stories at the moment. One is a slightly different fae AU, and the other is Southern Gothic (I've been watching Jeepers Creepers, so that's to be expected).

**Author's Note:**

> Title from The Other Side Of Paradise by Glass Animals.
> 
> If you so please, you can find me on Tumblr here https://www.tumblr.com/blog/cinder-reads-and-writes. I post my ramblings sometimes.


End file.
